Stowaway
by the ramblin rose
Summary: Han X Leia. She could have taken government transport to Naboo, but they had important things to discuss.


**AN: I will preface this by saying that I've never written Star Wars fanfic of any kind. I don't submit this as some kind of profound piece of literature. It's simply a fluffy little thing that I wanted to write about my favorite Star Wars OTP. I hope anyone who reads it can enjoy it for what it is.**

**I'll include the disclaimer that I own nothing from Star Wars and I'm gaining no profit from this beyond the shared experience of anyone who reads and whatever comments or reviews they may choose to leave me.**

**I hope that you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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Han was as angry as he'd ever been with Leia, and she was slightly ashamed at the fact that she was more amused by that than she should be.

She felt more frustration than anger, but the amusement at Han's dramatic responses and over-exaggerated handling of the Falcon's controls helped to ease a little of her frustration.

She could have taken a senatorial transport to Naboo, but that would have meant that she wouldn't have the time she needed to talk to Han about the conversation he'd overheard before they left. She wouldn't have the opportunity to address his concerns. And his current reaction, really, made it quite clear that they had some things they needed to discuss—maybe even more than Leia had originally thought when she'd asked him to take her to Naboo in the Falcon.

"Han—not talking about things and running away from them? That's never solved anything."

"Who's running away, Princess?" Han snapped back. Chewbacca growled out what sounded like a complaint, but Leia was still learning how to understand the Wookie's language. Han's response to his long-term companion was a grumbled dismissal, so Leia assumed that Chewbacca agreed with her.

The Wookie had been privy to most of the previous discussion, after all. He was free to have opinions about all of it.

Leia sighed and sat back in the seat behind Chewbacca. She crossed her arms across her chest and watched where they were going to for a few minutes instead of watching the man that she loved as he was working the controls of the ship. With nothing immediately pressing on her mind, and knowing that Han couldn't be talked to until he'd calmed down a bit, she allowed herself to daydream a little. She recognized the error in that decision when she pulled herself out of her daydream in time to notice that Han had steered them directly into an asteroid field.

"Are you trying to kill us?" Leia asked, sitting up suddenly and reaching out for the back of Chewbacca's seat.

Chewbacca howled. Leia didn't have to understand him to know that he was on her side.

"I've got everything under control, your Highness," Han barked back at her. It had been a while since he'd called her that in anything except jest.

"If you mean that you've got tearing the ship apart under control," Leia offered, "then you're right about that!"

He swayed to and fro, dodging most of the rocks that flew at them quickly enough to blur their trajectory. Some of them made contact with the Falcon, but luckily, they were the smaller kinds that rocked the ship—the impacts making Leia's teeth clack together at the worst and her insides feel a little scrambled at the least—and didn't really do enough damage to threaten to destroy the ship entirely.

"Do we really have to go through an asteroid field?" Leia asked. "There are easier routes to Naboo and we haven't seen any enemy ships for weeks."

"Shortest distance between two points, Princess," Han grumbled. "And you can be sure we haven't seen the last of the Empire."

Leia stifled the ironic laughter that bubbled up inside her.

"You don't have to tell me that we haven't seen the last of the Empire," Leia said, purposefully softening her tone for Han's benefit and, by extension, for the benefit of all of them. "I'm the one that's working with negotiations to try and clean up the mess they've made. Or have you forgotten that?"

Leia reached a hand out and rested it on Han's shoulder. She could feel the tension radiating out from him—both through her touch and through the connection she had formed with him through the Force. Han was anything but Force-sensitive, but that didn't mean that Leia couldn't connect with him and feel everything about him.

And, while he appreciated that she was headstrong and, as he said, difficult, he also appreciated that she loved him enough to give him the softness that he craved from her—especially when it was fitting.

When Han was angry enough to drive them head first into an asteroid field, Leia reasoned that he might need just a touch of softness.

"How can I forget?" Han asked. "You have the opportunity to fight against anyone who might want to bring the Empire back to power. What I don't understand is why you won't use that power! Fighting the Empire's the thing you care the most about, and you won't even use every weapon at your disposal!"

There it was. Leia had been waiting for him to spit it out so directly for a while. She almost felt a rush of relief at hearing it. She swallowed back her smile over the fact that she'd been right all along. She could have practically told him, word for word, what he would say.

She didn't take her hand away from his shoulder, and she kept one eye on the asteroids that he was, for the most part, successfully avoiding.

"Take us out of the asteroid field, Han," Leia said. It was cheating, but she put a bit more of her "will" behind the words so that he would be moved to listen to her. She'd promised herself that she'd never do it, once she'd discovered that she could, to control Han—not in a bad way—but she reasoned this was only to make things easier and better for all of them. "Take us out of the asteroid field. Turn the controls over to Chewie. Let's just—talk about this."

Chewbacca howled out what Leia felt to be his agreement, even if she couldn't yet fully speak the language.

Talking, sometimes, frightened Han worse than running head first into enemy fire or an asteroid field, but either there was enough of Leia's influence behind her suggestion, or he knew it to be the best course they could take, because Han did find the easiest and quickest route he could to take them out of the asteroid field. Once they were away from obstacles and the space around them was clear and open for the long trip to Naboo—a trip made longer since they were in no hurry and had no reason to get there at lightspeed for a while—Han relinquished control of the Falcon to Chewbacca and he left the pilot's chair to pull Leia to the side and rear of the cockpit—remaining close enough to help if something unexpected should disturb Chewbacca's flying.

It didn't matter if Chewbacca overheard them. He kept both Han's and Leia's confidences. He was as much a part of their family—and that's really what they were creating together—as anyone else. They had nothing to hide from him.

By the time they were facing each other, Han had softened. Maybe he was simply matching Leia's energy. He squeezed the tops of her arms as he held her in front of him and worked his hands over her muscles.

"You have a great power," he said. "You could be a Jedi."

Leia didn't try to hide her smile entirely. Han had changed so much so since the fall of the Empire. He'd changed so much since they'd had the opportunity to simply rest and breathe together. He'd changed so much since they could openly love one another.

He wanted what was best for her in the most selfless way.

Leia worked the muscles of his arms in response, mirroring his actions. She held his eyes with her own, almost challenging him to look away from her. She shook her head.

"I thought you didn't believe in the Jedi," she teased.

He raised his eyebrows slightly.

"You know I don't understand the Force," he said, "but I know that you have that power, Leia. And I know that you could use that power for so much good. You should do the training."

"I can still use my power," Leia said. "And I can still use the Force. Luke—he can teach me some of the ways to control it that I haven't learned on my own yet. But I won't do the training to become a Jedi, Han. I won't commit to being a Jedi."

"You could do so much good—and the cause is so important to you," Han argued.

"I believe I can do a lot of good in the Senate," Leia said. Han nodded, but started to speak. She shook her head at him, requesting that he let her continue. "I can do a lot of good without being named a Jedi master. And there are a lot of things that are important to me now. If I became a Jedi, it would be necessary for me to give all this up. To give you up. To give—us up."

Leia knew that Han was going to kiss her before he even made a move to do it. She could see it in his eyes. She enjoyed the kiss, too. She always enjoyed his kisses—whether they were soft or hard, passionate or simply passive, she enjoyed every one of them.

She couldn't give up what she had with Han—not even if being a Jedi would have somehow guaranteed the future of the peaceful government that they were striving to fully institute at the moment.

"I don't want to be the reason that you give up on something that you're passionate about," Han said as soon as the kiss was through. His words said he wanted her to go, but the physical hold that he had on her said he wanted desperately to keep her near him. He was practically lifting her off her feet.

"I'm passionate about—scruffy looking nerf herders," she teased.

The corner of his mouth turned up in amusement and appreciation.

"All of them?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Just one, in particular," she responded.

"I love you," Han said.

Leia smiled to herself.

"I know," she responded.

"But I never want you to look back and—feel like you made a mistake," Han said.

"I will forever have the power of the Force," Leia said. "And I will learn to control it. But I'll never regret choosing not to be a Jedi and choosing this over—giving everything up." Her chest tightened and her stomach churned slightly. She glanced, quickly, to look at where they were and where they were going. Chewbacca was flying smoothly and their path was clear. Space, around them, was still and silent. She couldn't blame the slight flipping of her stomach on the movement of the ship. It was only her nerves that were to blame. But she'd been waiting for the perfect moment, and she wasn't likely to find any better time. "I couldn't be a Jedi now if I wanted to," Leia offered, her voice almost betraying her nerves. If Han were force-sensitive, he would have known what she was feeling. He might have known all of it by now.

"They would allow you renounce your connections," Han said. He touched her face. "If that's what you wanted."

Leia shook her head.

"It isn't what I want," she assured him. "And—it isn't possible. It's not just about you anymore." She smiled at him. "It's not even just about us."

He furrowed his brow at her. He was still holding onto her. She was conscious of the feeling of his fingers working against her skin every now and again as he absentmindedly touched her. She was aware, too, of his confusion. His anxiety. She could feel it radiating out from him. She held her smile and she held his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" He asked.

"I think you know," Leia said. "If you—search your feelings." He shook his head gently. "I don't mean to use the Force, Han. I was going to tell you…on Naboo. I thought we'd take a vacation. A nice trip to one of the lake resorts. I thought I'd tell you then. I could never train as a Jedi now—the connection would be too strong. I could never break it."

"You mean…" Han stammered.

His expression and his reaction were adorable. They reminded Leia of everything she loved about Han Solo. They reminded her of every bit of relief she found in him—so much different from the others who surrounded her.

"I brought a stowaway aboard the Falcon," Leia teased. "I'm sorry. I would have told you before, but I was waiting for the right moment. I only just started to sense its presence."

"You're—pregnant?" Han asked.

Leia nodded her head.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Are you…happy?"

Han looked surprised. Stunned. Uncomfortable. And all the emotions flashed across his face quickly before he settled on something that drew the corner of his mouth up in an almost dazed smile. He kissed her, hard and fast, and he smiled more broadly when he pulled out of the kiss. She clenched her jaw, forcing a smile, rather than tell him that he was holding her so hard it was becoming painful.

He would relax in a moment, she was sure.

"I can't believe it," Han said.

"So, you're happy?" Leia pressed.

"I couldn't be happier," Han said.

Chewbacca howled out his input, reminding them that he was there and silently overhearing their whole conversation. Han loosened his grip on Leia's arms and laughed in response to whatever it was that Wookie had said.

"What'd he say?" Leia asked. Han's smile brightened.

"That he would love it like his own cub," Han offered.

Leia laughed.

"No baby's ever slept safer than in the arms of its Wookie godfather," Leia teased. Chewbacca howled out a satisfied response. Then, he added something more that Leia couldn't make out. She looked at Han in question. He'd dropped his hands from her arms now, and he leaned against the wall of the ship, clearly needing just a bit of support as he processed the drastic change of emotions he'd been through since they boarded. He laughed to himself at Chewbacca's input.

"He says—I better marry you on Naboo," Han said. Chewbacca repeated something. Leia recognized the sound from what he'd said before, but she still couldn't fully understand him. "Alright—I hear you, you big fuzzball. There's no need for threats!"

"What did he say?" Leia asked. "What did he repeat?"

Han laughed to himself again.

"He said that—if I don't marry you, he'll pull my arms out of their sockets," Han said. "There won't be any reason for that. That is—if a princess like you would marry a scoundrel like me." He laughed nervously. "Hell—if you're not afraid of bringing a kid that takes after his old man into the world."

It was Leia, this time, that kissed Han. He met her, though, for the kiss, so that she didn't have to do much more than barely raise herself on her toes to request it. Whether or not she would marry him was entirely rhetorical, but she hoped her kiss conveyed everything she wanted to say—everything she was sure he must understand.

She couldn't help but smile at him when she brought her eyes back to meet his.

"Maybe what my life needs—what this world needs—is a few more scoundrels."


End file.
